The Fourth Wall Revisited
by Voldemort's Spawn
Summary: Sequel to The Fourth Wall. Holmes wants a plot. Well he got one… kind of. This time, we break the fifth wall! Happy Birthday, Dr. Watson!


_**The Fourth Wall Revisited**_

**Summary:** Holmes wants a plot. Well he got one… kind of. This time, we break the fifth wall!

**This is for Watson, who's birthday really is today! This is also for **_**KayMoon24.**_** She requested it and I hope I didn't disappoint!**

**I don't own Sherlock Holmes or Watson. A girl can dream though!**

* * *

"I need a plot!" Holmes yelled, his voice carrying throughout his apartment.

He paused and listened, hoping something (or someone, rather) would answer him back. When he heard no response, he huffed and slumped into his arm chair. He scanned the room looking for something, anything really, that would capture his attention.

News clippings, his violin, and other miscellaneous items littered the floor. He groaned. Holmes was bored. No interesting cases, no Watson to torment now that he was gone. Holmes even gave up testing concoctions on Gladstone, who was passed out in the far corner.

"I have nothing to live for, Gladstone," Holmes told the sleeping dog. "I'm going to fade away with no one realizing I've gone. Even you wouldn't miss me, would you?"

"_God, you're an emo kid."_

"Ah, but it worked. I do say, you are quite gullible." Holmes looked up and smirked.

"_Touché, Mr. Holmes."_

"Now that you're here," He rose from his chair and paced in the small path he created among the mess, "I believe I am in dire need of a plot of some sorts."

"_Be careful what you ask me Holmes. Your idea of a decent plot can be very different from my own."_

"I am thoroughly aware of that hitch." He replied.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. A familiar voice called out from behind it.

"Holmes? Holmes, who are you talking too."

"That was fast," he muttered, marching to the door.

He grabbed the handle and cracked the door to peer outside. Just as he expected, Watson was standing there, arms crossed behind his back.

"Are you going to let me in?" Watson asked.

"Of course not." Holmes stepped aside to let his friend in.

"Who were you talking too?"

"Gladstone," he then motioned to the sleeping dog. "He's a wonderful listener but terrible at card games."

"Holmes, this place is a mess." Watson sighed as he looked around. "Wasn't I here just two days ago? You're worse than a child!"

"Speaking of the little monsters, how is Mary? Has she swelled to the size of a cow yet?"

"I'm going to tell her you said that," Watson frowned. "And when she's done beating you to a pulp, I'm going to say 'I told you so' and let you heal your own wounds."

"I doubt that. If she should be attacking anyone, it should be you. You put her in said predicament."

Watson sighed. He wasn't going to argue with him. Instead, he maneuvered around the clutter to wrench the curtains open.

"You are evil!" Holmes yelled covering his eyes as the sunlight beamed in.

"_Aw, he's like a vampire! Only cooler!"_

"_She's_ here?" Watson's eyes widened.

"_Opps."_

"I thought she left," Holmes shrugged, slowly removing his hands from his eyes.

"_I did, but I couldn't resist myself, sorry."_

"I take it you two worked out your differences," Watson eyed Holmes.

"When your left all alone with no one to talk too, a voice no matter how imaginary becomes welcoming." Holmes frowned.

"_He's guilt-tripping you, Watson! Don't fall for it!"_

"You're supposed to be on my side," he grumbled, making Watson laugh.

"How is Mrs. Hudson taking this… talking seemingly to yourself? I would have asked her but it seems she's out this evening."

"The Nanny is taking it quiet well."

"_That means she's convinced Holmes has lost his mind and won't bother him."_

"I see." Watson paused and looked Holmes over. "So how hold have you two been on talking terms?"

"_Three weeks."_

"I believe he was asking me, not you." Holmes said. "It's been more so two weeks. Talking to me and me not responding does not count."

"Deep down I feel I should be worried."

Watson cleared off a chair and took a seat in front of a desk littered with papers and Holmes jar of flies. He eyed the jar with a frown but didn't relay aloud what he was thinking. Holmes took up his violin and flopped haphazardly into his armchair.

"_I wouldn't worry about Holmes, Watson. He talks to other people besides me."_

"Like who? I don't count." He then winced as Holmes started to pluck his violin strings, making the jar of flies start circling in tempo. "Holmes stop strumming that atrocious instrument."

"_Well, Irene was here twice last week._"

There was a sharp noise when Holmes plucked one of the strings harder than usual. He stopped playing and stared forward, waiting for a response from Watson, whom he was certain had something to say to that remark.

"Alder? Irene Alder was here? For what, tea? She doesn't seem the type to stop by for tea." Watson smirked.

"You never know Watson, the woman is very versatile." He then went back to strumming.

"_Yes, tea and sex. Tons of passionate love was made with a side of crumpets." _

"I really didn't need to know that," Watson said, a look somewhere between disgust and disbelief sported on his face.

"Woman, you're lies are humorless and obscene." Holmes muttered.

"_Next thing you know, little Holmes' will be running around. ADD and all!"_

"Dear Lord, please don't curse us like that!" Watson said quickly.

"_I could if I wanted too. I have the power."_

"The power yes but not the moxie." Holmes smirked.

"_Don't push it, Holmes."_

"Then come and say it to my face." He stated rather than asked.

"Holmes, I really don't think you should tease her. She's dangerous." Watson got off his chair and walked toward Holmes, looking around as if worried something would fall and hit him.

"I am not afraid of a child." Holmes retorted, laying his violin to the side.

"I am not a child." The voice came from behind them.

Holmes leaned to his left to peer around the chair and Watson spun on his heel. Standing behind them was an oddly dressed young woman who's arms were crosses and eyes glaring at the detective in the chair.

"So you _can_ break the fifth wall," Holmes stated excitedly.

"Honestly, Sherlock, if you can break the fourth, the fifth is a piece of cake," the young woman smiled.

"There's a _fifth_ wall. I thought there were only four." Watson studied the lady before him. "Where are you from? You dress… oddly."

"The ceiling is the fifth wall. Okay that's a bad joke." she laughed, "Fifth wall is when someone from _my _world goes into yours and to answer your question, twenty-first century America."

"There isn't actually a fifth wall, We made it up" Holmes stated matter-of-factly to Watson. "I must say, I am impressed. I was being to doubt I would ever convince you to show."

Holmes then rose from his chair to get a better look at the stranger. He immediately understood why Watson sported the odd look he did. The girl sighed and shrugged.

"What can I say, I'm bored. The only excitement in my day is when I write about what you and other little characters are doing."

"That's rather disturbing." Watson said, furrowing his brows.

"Happy birthday, by the way," the girl smiled knowingly.

"Is it your birthday already?" Holmes asked with a raised brow and looked his friend over. "It's July? I thought we were still in April."

"I'm going pretend you didn't say that," Watson gave a faux smile.

The girl laughed and looked down at what Holmes and Watson assumed was a watch. At least it looked like one, if you ignored the oddity of it being wrapped around her wrist.

"I must be going," she lowered her hand and sighed. "I have places to be, people to see, all that jazz."

"You just arrived and now you're leaving?" Holmes failed to hide his disappointment.

"You, Mr. Holmes, need to celebrate with Watson," she smiled and shook her finger at him. "Besides, I never said I wouldn't come back," she added with a wink.

"Well do you have a name? If I'm going to talk to the ceiling, I would prefer having a name to address it with."

"Maybe later," she said after a moment.

Without another word, she hopped over a discarded item on the floor and went out the door. Holmes and Watson glanced at each other.

"That was rather pleasant," Holmes stated. "I was certain there would be at least one thrown object."

"I agree," Watson nodded. "Was Adler _really _here, or was she only joking." Holmes didn't look at him.

"She was joking." Before Watson could question whether that was a lie, he added, "Do you think Mary made you a cake? I do love cake."

* * *

**Once again… totally not as I planned. Grrr. Oh well, I know it's a bit rushed. I wanted to get it up for Watson =). Thanks for reading!**


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